Fate
by astraplain
Summary: Warning: SPOILERS. Dark AU. What happens when Florian moves into Noir's home. Alternate version of the manga series. Contains mature themes. Disclaimer: Ray, Florian and all the other characters belong to You Higuri.
1. Chapter 1

Fate

Florian pressed his head back into the pillow and bit his lip hard. The pain barely registered.

A mere 48 hours after being sold to Ray Balzac Courland, Florian was learning the reality of his new life. Surrounded. Filled. Consumed.

Florian wondered if there would be anything left of him. He wondered if he cared.

Somehow he'd known that this would be his fate. That the jewel his family had been charged with safeguarding would demand such a sacrifice. It brought physical illness to claim his father. It brought mental illness to claim his mother. And it brought this... this maddening mix of pain and pleasure to destroy him.

From the moment Ray looked into his eyes Florian knew he'd belong to that dangerous man. The knowledge thrilled and terrified him. To be possessed, claimed, owned. Perhaps he danced closer to the edge of sanity than he realized.

Two days he waited, knowing his master was near. Knowing his fate was at hand.

He was sick with fear. He was sick with desire.

He knew he'd have to push Ray, make him angry enough to loosen his control. It was a dangerous game Florian would have to play. Possibly a deadly one. Florian didn't care. The jewel had already placed this fate before him. It made no promises on how long it would take that fate to play out.

Pushing was easier than he thought it would be. A few well chosen words spoken with casual arrogance. A small act of disrespect.

Seconds later Florian was laid out, Ray's weight pressing him down, dominating him. Florian's heart beat faster in excitement but he played at struggling, one last act of defiance before he surrendered completely.

Despite everything, Ray managed to control himself enough not to tear Florian apart. Most of the blond's tears were gratitude, although he dared not admit that to his master.

A tiny spark of hope flared deep inside him. Hope that one day he would be free of the jewel's curse. Hope that one day his master would free his ice-bound heart.

Until that day he would do his duty and protect the jewel, even at the cost of his soul.

"Tell me where the jewel is," Ray growled, pressing deeper, demanding submission.

Florian looked into Ray's eyes, closed his mouth tightly and opened his legs.

::end::


	2. Darkness

WARNING: This chapter contains mature themes and an attempted suicide.

It's twenty minutes past his usual breakfast time when Laila knocks on Ray's bedroom door. She doesn't wait for his acknowledgement before entering, balancing a breakfast tray complete with eggs, bacon, toast and coffee. The morning newspaper is folded in thirds and rests beside the silverware.

Ray's sitting up in bed reading by the pale sunlight filtering through the curtains. He's shirtless and his hair is a finger-combed mess. Beside him, a tangle of pale blond hair and a bare back are all that can be seen of Ray's new pet.

Laila settles the tray on Ray's blanket-covered thighs and tries not to let him see the look she gives that pale-skinned back. What is it she feels anyway; contempt, hatred, envy? The only certainty is her desire to be rid of the pampered little aristocrat for good.

"Laila?" Ray asks, giving her a curious look. She picks the paper up nervously and unfolds it to display the headline: "Tragedy at the Rochefort Mansion".

Ray snatches the paper and scans it quickly noting the lack of detailed information. What is sure is that Florian's mother was killed and the house destroyed by fire the previous evening. No details means that they have a suspect but haven't apprehended him yet. Ray casts an uneasy glance at his sleeping companion and shoves the paper back at Laila.

"Put that somewhere. I'll tell him later." He frowns a little, catching Laila's unguarded look at Florian. "Tell the others. I don't want him hearing it from anyone but me."

"Yes, Noir," Laila responds crisply, taking the paper and turning to leave. Ray stops her once more. "Tell Luc I'll need the car this morning. I want to see the damage for myself and ask a few questions."

Laila nods and leaves, closing the door quietly.

XXXXX

"Look who's finally awake," Laila comments by way of greeting. Florian offers her a smile but she doesn't return it. Instead she gestures to the cold toast and tea on the sideboard.

Florian's smile fades but he dutifully walks over to claim the unappetizing breakfast. He picks up the plate of toast with one hand, the cold tea with the other, his eyes falling on the newspaper lying nearby.

The plate of toast lands, scattered but unharmed, the teacup and saucer shatter, spraying cold tea across the carpet, the sideboard and Florian. He doesn't notice, his face paling as he grips the paper, scanning the article about his mother and their home.

"Something wrong?" Laila asks neutrally as she sets about cleaning up the mess he's made. She keeps her face turned down towards the carpet as footsteps fade from the room. Only then does she look up, the hint of a smile curving her lips upwards.

XXXXX

He flees not to Ray's room where he spends most of his nights, but to the small, plain room he's been told is his. Florian's chest rises and falls rapidly as he takes in shallow breaths and exhales them just as quickly. He feels lightheaded and his skin tingles as if he is being pricked by thousands of pins. Throwing open the wardrobe he tears a cloak from its hanger and throws it on. He turns so quickly he bumps into the bed frame, corrects himself and manages to navigate out of the room to the top of the stairs. He stumbles and nearly falls more than once as he descends, finally reaching the floor. The outer door is in sight and he staggers towards it, half-blinded by tears. A mere body's length away someone grabs his shoulder and turns him roughly.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jameson demands. He is the biggest and roughest of Noir's gang, and he's made his dislike of Florian clear from the start.

"Mother… the house… I have to…"

"Noir didn't say anything about you going out. Until he says different, you don't get near that door."

Florian is frantic, pushing at Jameson to break free, to reach the door that is so close, taunting him. "Please! I have to…"

Jameson tightens his grip, strong fingers digging hard into Florian's upper arms. "Get back in bed where you belong."

"No!" Florian screams, lashing out with arms and legs, half-crazed with desperation. "Let me go!" His foot connects hard with Jameson's knee and the large man swears. With a growl he delivers a solid punch to the stomach, and follows with one to the jaw. Florian drops to the floor, unconscious.

"Stupid whore," Jameson mutters, picking up the blond and carrying him upstairs to Noir's bedroom. He dumps the unconscious man on the bed and stomps out, locking the door behind him. He hands the key to Laila with a nod.

XXXXX

He wakes suddenly, his head and stomach aching. Disoriented, he scans the room, slowly realizing where he is. Memory returns seconds later and he leaps from the bed and races to the door where he tries desperately to force it open. He pounds and begs to be let out but no one answers and after long minutes he gives up.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed he looks around desperately for something to force the door. There is nothing. The panic tears at him and his head throbs. He has to get out!

Yes! He lunges towards the window and shoves it open, leaning out to see how high up he is. A sheer three story drop. If he had…. Sheets! He tears the bedding from the mattress, not caring that blankets and pillows scatter everywhere. Trailing the sheet, he looks out again, wondering how far he'll have to fall and how much it will hurt. He shakes his head and chases the thought away. Now, something to anchor… the bedpost! He tries three times before he has a knot he thinks might hold his weight. One last glance out the window and...

No!!

Jameson stands in the yard, arms crossed, looking up at Florian. After a long moment, he waves.

Pulling back, Florian stumbles, looking around wildly for something. Anything.

He is still standing there, sheet in hand when Laila unlocks the door and walks in.

"You'll have to clean that up before Noir gets back," she says calmly as she places a tray with broth and tea on the dresser. "He hates an untidy bed." She stands looking at Florian for a long moment before adding, "Be sure to tuck the sheet in properly. It's the least you can do after everything he's doing for you, protecting you when everyone says that you killed your mother."

"I… what?"

"Your aunt and uncle are missing too. You'd be in quite a bad situation if Noir wasn't protecting you." She looks him up and down with barely concealed contempt. "Although seeing you like this might make him change his mind." She turns away from his shocked expression, a tiny twinge of pity almost making her relent. Instead, she marches through the door and locks it.

XXXXX

The broth and tea sit untouched while Florian paces, his mind tumbling words and phrases in an endless cycle. His mother, dead. His aunt and uncle, missing. His home, destroyed. Himself, accused. He can almost hear the cursed jewel mocking him.

He'd known. He should have known. There was no escape. There never would be. Never….escape… never…

The sheets are still a tangled mess and he picks one up, twisting it tighter, purposefully as his eyes scan the room, looking upwards. A glance down shows Jameson trimming weeds in the back yard. Florian steps back and closes the curtains.

Where?

The curtains!

Florian lifts one of the heavy panels, estimating that the expensive brocade weighs at least twenty pounds. Will it be enough?

Florian pulls a chair over and climbs on it, reaching up to touch the curtain rod, pulling on it hard to see how sturdy it is. It barely moves when he pulls downwards with all his strength.

Perfect.

The sheet goes over nicely and Florian takes the time to wrap it around the curtain rod several times before knotting it twice. Now for the other end. Neatness isn't important here, but length is and he measures it several times before he is satisfied.

The loop is the easiest part and he makes it quickly. The adjustable knot is harder but he manages that too, his mind clear and focused now that he has made his decision.

A traitorous thought wonders if he is gaining freedom or merely surrendering to the jewel.

What difference does it make?

The sheet is warm from handling and he settles it around his neck quickly. A moment to adjust the knot and another to send a silent prayer upwards for his mother's soul. He has no illusions of saving his own.

There are tears on his face but he doesn't waste effort wiping them away. One last breath and…

The lock turns just as he steps off the chair.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ray screams as he races across the room, grabbing Florian around the waist and holding him up. "Get this damned thing off of him!"

Florian can smell the anger and fear. It adds to his confusion so he decides not to think at all. He closes his eyes and blocks out everything but the feel of the hands at his waist and the hard chest pressing against his own.

Darkness pulls at him and he wants to surrender to it but Ray keeps shaking him, demanding that he stay awake. He wants to ask why, but can't form the words.

After a while breathing becomes easier and he lays his head against Ray's shoulder. He's suddenly very tired.

"Wake up!" Ray demands, shaking him again. Everything shifts and then hands are pulling him away. Florian opens his eyes, ready to protest, but Ray's expression silences him.

"Take him downstairs," Ray commands the hands, and Florian closes his eyes again. He keeps them closed as he is carried downstairs, through the house and downstairs again. It is colder and he shivers.

Cold metal presses against his wrist bringing him back to awareness and he opens his eyes in confusion. "What?"

A click of metal against metal and more unforgiving cold encircles his other wrist. His hands are high over his head and his arms feel overstretched. Directly in front of him is a wooden column and he appears to be chained to it.

His brain is still puzzling over that when he hears Ray's familiar footsteps.

"He's ready?" Ray asks the unnamed hands that carried Florian here. Someone mumbles an answer and then footsteps sound again, taking the unidentified people away.

"Why?" Ray demands, moving to stand behind Florian, one hand caressing Florian's back through his rumpled shirt. "Why did you do that?"

The question makes no sense to Florian. Why? Shouldn't the question be: why had Ray stopped him? And if that's the case, why does Florian feel relieved?

"Mother…" he mumbles.

"So you know about your mother?" Ray's hand continues to caress Florian's back, sliding a little more to his side. Florian nods.

"And the house?" Ray's hand slides down Florian's side, then up again, moving around to his chest. Florian nods again.

"Your aunt and uncle too? And the arrest warrant?" That hand is sliding up and down Florian's chest, brushing his nipples, then skimming down to his waist and back up again. Florian's breath hitches and he nods again.

"So your first thought is to kill yourself? Not wait for me? Not trust me?" Ray's hand dances along the centerline of buttons. Without warning he grips one edge and pulls hard, tearing the fabric and scattering the buttons. "Answer me!"

Florian opens his mouth to obey but his answer is cut short by a line of searing pain angling across his back. Another crosses it, then a third. Fourth. Fifth.

Florian stops counting.

His head is pressed against the column, tears streaming down his face. Every breath, every movement, is pain and fire.

Fire…

"More," he begs in a broken whisper. "Please."

Another line of fire. Another.

Mother…

And another.

Aunt… Uncle…

Another.

The damned jewel…

It's killing him. He's dying for it.

Another.

It has already taken everything. He owes it no more loyalty.

Another. Another.

"Please," Florian weeps, blind with pain and tears. "Please save me."

Something hits the floor and then Ray's hands are on him, soothing him. His mouth is pressed against Ray's. Is this salvation?

"I'll tell you…" Florian sobs. "Please…"

Gentle hands release him, lowering him to warm fabric over a cold hard floor. He can feel every one of his bloody wounds, but he can also feel Ray's hands on his belt, and then on his suddenly exposed skin.

Florian reaches up, still blind and wraps his arms around the familiar body. Ray's weight brings comfort as it settles onto him. Florian understands this.

He shifts, not caring about the pain, seeking a different, more transitory pain instead. He cries out to welcome it, just as he welcomes the heat, the possession.

Pleasure comes slowly in his confused and weakened state. Ray is patient and gentle. Florian manages a smile of gratitude before he slips away into darkness.

He doesn't resist. He knows Ray won't let the darkness win.


	3. Trade

"You're a good boy," Florian whispers to the trembling child. He holds Noel close, trying to calm him, pushing his own anxiety away. When the boy has stopped trembling and grows heavy in Florian's, arms, the man settles him in his own bed. Pulling the covers up around him he waits at the bedside another ten minutes to be sure the boy is sleeping.

As quietly as he can, Florian leaves the room and hurries downstairs to the study where Ray will be waiting. He's due for a whipping at the very least and can only hope Ray will let him off that lightly. He knew bringing the boy into Ray's home without permission was a risk. Refusing to send the boy away was an even greater one. But now, with the child a target of criminals, Florian fears what Ray might do.

Florian will endure the whip, being chained in the basement, or even worse. He'll endure anything as long as Ray doesn't throw him out onto the street. Florian has no illusions as to what he'll have to do to survive if Ray ever does cast him out.

"Come," Ray calls when Florian knocks on the study door. Florian enters briskly, knowing Ray hates to be kept waiting.

"He's asleep." Florian stands motionless in front of the desk, head slightly bowed, arms held loosely at his sides. He sees Ray approaching but keeps still as Ray circles him, one hand toying with the coiled whip.

"You disobeyed me," Ray observes mildly, continuing his movement around Florian. "You brought the boy here without permission and gave criminals reason to enter my home." A touch of the whip along Florian's arm, just a soft caress through the thin fabric of his shirt. Florian doesn't move.

"You fed him my food and have him sleeping in my house." A press of the whip along his back and Ray's breath on the back of his neck. Florian steels himself and doesn't react.

"I told you to send the boy away and you didn't." The rough leather of the whip skims down his neck. "Do you remember that you are in my debt? Do you understand that you own nothing, not even the clothing you are wearing?" Ray's fingers find the buttons on Florian's shirt and slowly opens them. He moves around Florian again and with one sharp movement, pulls the shirt off and tosses it aside.

"I bought you like a concubine. I feed you, clothe you, even give you a warm bed to sleep in. And you… you bring me nothing but trouble." Ray is standing in front of Florian again, the coiled whip pressed under his chin, forcing Florian to meet his hard gaze.

"I protected you when you were accused of killing your mother. I believed you when you promised to lead me to your family's precious diamond. And what do I have to show for my generosity? A castle in ruins, but no diamond, and a spoiled, disobedient aristocrat who owes me more money then he could ever repay."

The whip moves downward over Florian's exposed skin and stops just above his belt. He's reveling in Florian's fear, savoring it. He presses a bit harder and watches as Florian's chest moves faster, his breathing becoming more rapid.

"Noir!" Laila slams open the door and races in, frantic. She doesn't even notice what she's interrupted. "The kid is gone!"

"What?" Both men exclaim, but with different expressions. Ray's is surprised but Florian's is concerned and fearful.

Without thinking, he pulls away from Ray and hurries to the door. He's almost there but Ray arrives first, slamming the door shut and leaning past Florian to keep it closed.

"Please, I have to find Noel."

Without bothering to answer, Ray grabs Florian by the back of the neck and forces him away from the door. He moves them far enough away that he can send Laila out, which he does. She complies without delay, not wanting Ray's wrath turned against her. She closes the door behind her and hurries away, not wanting to hear the inevitable end of this scene.

"Please," Florian begs, tears flowing down his face. He's begging for the child's safety as well as his own.

"Yes, beg," Ray commands as he drags Florian across the room to the desk and throws him down on it, face first. He strips Florian and claims him brutally. "Beg," he snarls, twisting his fingers in the mass of blond hair and yanking Florian's head back.

"Please, master. Please." Florian is sobbing, barely able to catch a breath. "Please forgive me."

"Why should I, you disobedient whore?" Ray thrusts deep and stills. Florian catches his breath, terrified of doing the wrong thing and compounding his master's anger. A familiar sound lets him know the whip is out. Florian prepares himself for the pain.

The leather cuts through the air over Florian's head and, despite his best efforts, he flinches. But the anticipated pain doesn't arrive and he cautiously opens his eyes to find Solomon Sugar standing a few feet a way, the end of Ray's whip wrapped around his arm.

"You found me," Solomon says calmly pushing aside the curtain that had concealed him and stepping closer while he unwraps the whip from his arm. His eyes never leave Florian's partially exposed body.

"Come for the show?" Ray scoffs as he shifts, making Florian moan. He pulls Florian up, displaying him to the envious detective. "I know you want a taste."

"Are you offering?" Solomon counters, moving to the side to get a better look at Florian and Ray. Unfortunately for him, most of Ray is concealed by his clothing.

"What are you willing to pay?" Ray replies smoothly, reaching down to stroke Florian, demanding that he react. Florian doesn't disappoint.

Solomon swallows hard and shifts a bit uncomfortably. "I can help you find the kid."

"Why would that be of any interest to me?" Ray wants to know, but Florian reacts with interest.

"It's important to someone in this room."

"Then that person will have to find a way to persuade you." Ray pulls away abruptly, leaving Florian exposed and frustrated.

With a glance at Ray for permission, which he doesn't get, Florian slides off the desk onto his knees. He crawls on all fours to Solomon and reaches up to his waist. Looking back at Ray he bows his head submissively before rising up on his knees and freeing Solomon's hard flesh. He closes his eyes as he sets to work, desperate to save Noel, but just as desperate not to offend Ray.

He's clumsy at first and only Solomon's eagerness keeps Florian from offending him with his poor skills. He struggles to calm himself, trying to use the techniques that Ray taught him. He feels a familiar hand on his back and tries not to react.

Please, he begs silently. Please don't send me away.

"Enough," Ray snaps, pulling Florian back hard. Florian falls back against Ray and stays there, immediately turning his face downward in submission. He waits silently for punishment, the taste of Solomon bitter on his tongue.

"Florian." Ray holds out a hand to the blond, who takes it cautiously and lets Ray help him to his feet. Ray takes off his outer robe and wraps it around the naked man, his touch surprisingly gentle. "Wait for me upstairs," he says quietly before giving him a kiss.

Florian nods to his master, then turns and nods to Solomon before quickly gathering his strewn clothing and hurrying out of the room.

"Now," Ray addresses the detective who is putting his clothing in order and looking rather discomfited to be left in such a state. "I want the kid. You want to finish what you started. Shall we agree to a trade?"

"I want you both," Solomon counters. "My beloved black cat and I sharing your precious Amethyst."

"You only touch him where and how I tell you," Ray responds, reaching into the container on his desk for a cigar. "And only after you deliver the kid."

Solomon moves closer, boldly, and leans close to Ray, inhaling deeply. "You've left your scent on him. It'll be almost like having my black cat."

He's nearly to the door when Ray catches him with the whip. Ray draws the trapped man back slowly until he can look directly into his eyes. "No one has me, Sugar. I'm the one who does the taking. Remember that."

Solomon smiles in return. As soon as the whip is loosened he grabs Ray's chin and kisses him hard. "Believe what you will, and tell your Amethyst I look forward to tasting him."

He's gone before Ray can catch him again.

Ray tightens his hold on the whip and grits his teeth. He brushes his hair out of his eyes and smiles darkly. His Amethyst is upstairs, waiting and his debt has just increased substantially. Ray plans to let him spend the rest of the night demonstrating his gratitude. He'll wait until morning to take his pet to the cellar.


	4. Trade 2

He's barely conscious when Ray finally carries him out of the cellar late the second day. Florian is grateful when Ray places him gently in the narrow bed in Florian's room, knowing he's too weak to serve as Ray's companion for at least another day. 

"Rest," Ray soothes him, leaning down to press a kiss against his forehead before drawing the blankets up over Florian's wounded, barely clothed body. "I'll send Laila up with her ointments and some broth."

Florian reaches up to his master, not wanting him to leave, although he knows it's better if he does. He feels Ray's warmth against his hand and closes his eyes, trying to hold onto the sensation.

"Sleep, " Ray whispers, patting Florian's hand before putting it back on the bed and walking away without looking back.

Florian shifts onto his side and fights back the tears that have less to do with physical pain and more to do with the pain of being left alone. He knows he's pathetic, but he can't stop himself, not even when Laila walks in without knocking and thumps her tray down onto his nightstand.

She pulls the remnants of his tattered shirt roughly away from his blood encrusted wounds and he bites back a scream, welcoming the darkness that pulls him down.

XXXXX

When Florian regains consciousness he has a moment of panic, fearing that Ray has sent him away. He's in this room so seldom that he doesn't recognize it at first. It takes him less time to remember where he's been. If the pain didn't remind him, the strong smell of Laila's healing ointments would.

He's shirtless and his chest and shoulders are wrapped in bandages, some of them already soaked through with now-dried blood. Memory floods him and Florian hopes that whatever deal Ray made with Solomon will wait until he's healed.

As much as he hates the idea of being with anyone but Ray, Florian won't regret whatever he has to do. It will be worth it to have saved Noel. The poor child was terrified and he trusted Florian to help him. Florian won't let him down.

With great effort he gets out of bed and dresses himself in old, loose clothing. He doesn't want to stain any of the expensive shirts Ray bought him. Moving carefully, he manages the stairs, although he's breathing hard and the edges of his vision are dimming. He rests against the wall a long moment to recover his strength before straightening and moving to Ray's study. He knocks quietly and waits for permission to enter.

"What are you doing up?" Ray demands, leaving his desk and hurrying to help Florian into a seat. Once the blond is settled Ray turns his head and bellows for Laila.

"Please, don't bother anyone," Florian pleads. He hates having Laila see him like this, and he doesn't want to see her ill-concealed contempt.

"Water and pain killer now, then soup in the dining room," Ray barks over Florian's shoulder, and the person hurries away.

"You shouldn't provoke me so," Ray tells Florian as he gently smoothes his hair into place, then caresses his face. "I don't like to see you like this."

"I'm sorry." Florian lowers his eyes and tears glitter on his eyelashes. "I couldn't let the child be hurt."

"He wasn't – nothing more than a few scrapes, anyway. He's back home with his father and his stepmother is in jail."

"Oh!" Relief floods through Florian and he wavers. Ray catches him with strong hands and lifts him so Florian is cradled against Ray's warm chest. It feels like heaven and for a moment, Florian lets himself think only of the safety of those arms.

"Take this," Ray insists, breaking through Florian's haze. He lowers the wounded man onto the fainting couch in the drawing room and accepts the small glass of doctored liqueur he uses for pain relief. He holds Florian up and presses the glass against his chapped lips, tipping it slowly until Florian swallows the contents. He hands the empty glass back to Laila and accepts the glass of cool water in its place. He gives Florian half, then eases him down onto the silk pillow.

"Stay here and let the medicine do its job. You'll feel better soon. He presses a kiss against the warm lips and pulls away, watching as Florian's eyes flutter, then close. He accepts the silk throw from Laila and covers the resting man, watching for another minute until he's sure that Florian won't follow.

"Come with me," Ray orders quietly and Laila follows without comment, a small shard of worry in her chest.

"Florian is part of this household. He will be treated with the same respect as everyone else who lives here. I trust you to understand that and make it clear to the others." Ray's gaze is even but there is a stiffness to his posture that tells Laila how upset he is. She pushes back the many things she'd like to say and settles for a simple nod. She'll make an effort to tolerate the pampered little pet, but only for Ray's sake.

"Please tell the cook that Florian will need soup and soft bread for his meals today, and bland foods for at least another day."

She nods again, trying not to think about the regret and other unfamiliar things she sees in Ray's eyes. She doesn't like this – any of it – but for now she'll do as he asks… and keep watching.

XXXXXX

The smell wakes him, his stomach reminding him that it's been too long since he last ate.

"Slow down," Ray laughs, placing a restraining hand lightly on Florian's shoulder. "No one's going to take your food away; wake up before you try to get up."

Florian relaxes back against the soft cushions and smiles up at Ray. He's stiff but in less pain than the last time he was awake. He allows himself a moment's indulgence, reaching out to Ray and drawing him down for a kiss.

"Don't start something you can't finish," Ray teases, sliding his fingers through Florian's fine hair. It's a bit tangled and he tries to finger comb it smooth. "Why don't you freshen up a little? You can use the guest bathroom and join me in the dining room. Cook made chicken soup for you."

Florian presses himself up against Ray for a moment in gratitude, then lets him pull away. He accepts the hand that Ray offers and rises slowly, still shaking off the effects of the medicine.

The guest bathroom is small but lavish and well-stocked. Florian takes extra time to make himself presentable and feels much better when he finally joins Ray in the dining room.

He's starving, but he forces himself to eat slowly, both for appearance and for the sake of his weakened body. Previous trips to the cellar have taught him how important it is not to overstress his system with too much food, too quickly.

He is still working on his bowl of soup when Ray lays his silverware across his plate and signals for Luc to take it away. Immediately Florian sets his spoon down and removes the napkin from his lap.

"Finish your meal," Ray chides. "I'll have coffee."

Luc hurries off to bring the hot beverage and Florian smiles his thanks as he replaces the napkin and continues eating. He is feeling much better now that his stomach isn't protesting.

When the coffee is served, Ray dismisses Luc and the two men are alone. Ray takes a letter from the inside pocket of his jacket and unfolds it, skimming the contents before clearing his throat.

"Solomon Sugar sent this today. He says that Noel's father has been cleared of criminal charges and will be able to stay with Noel. He and the boy are going to take an extended holiday in England to get away from all the publicity surrounding his wife's crimes. Apparently she threatened to kill Noel unless M. Tassel stole the bank's money and used it to buy jewels. She was intending to kill them both once she got the jewels. If Solomon hadn't rescued them, they'd both be dead."

Florian sets his spoon down and closes his eyes. A tear slips out and slides down his cheek, trailing slowly until Ray reaches over and brushes it away.

"He's safe," Ray reminds Florian gently.

"I know," Florian opens his eyes and looks directly at Ray. "Whatever price you ask of me – it's worth it to know that Noel is safe."

"I'm glad you know that. The price will be high."

Florian nods, looking down. Ray's laughter makes him look up again, confused. Ray just shakes his head and points to the remnants of Florian's meal. "Finish that and you can take a long soak in the tub. You'll be in no shape to see Sugar for a few more days and I've got work to do. I'll expect you to join me for supper at seven."

Florian nods and hurries to finish his lukewarm meal. When he is done, he looks to Ray for permission to leave. The younger man nods, catching Florian's hand as he rises. Ray pulls on the hand gently, drawing Florian close and tilts his head up for a kiss. Florian happily complies until Ray finally releases him and sends him off for a bath.

XXXXX

"Use this one," Ray insists, tapping a bolt of filmy cream-colored fabric. This is the first underlayer." He taps a second bolt, whiter and slightly less translucent. "This is the second, and then this for the outer robe." He lifts the corner of a pale lavender silk.

"It will be quite expensive, sir," the tailor protests. He eyes the dark man in his exotic robes and then the quiet, pale man clad only in undergarments waiting patiently to be measured. The fading injuries covering the blond's arms and legs make the craftsman nervous and he fumbles with his measuring tape several times before bowing his head and turning his full attention to the task.

"I'll want this done by Friday morning," Ray says calmly.

"Friday!" the tailor wails. "But that's in two days."

"Plenty of time," Ray insists, waving for him to get back to work. He doesn't like having Florian so exposed in front of a stranger but it can't be helped. He wants the fit of the robes to be perfect, and clothing would only get in the way of true measurements.

The tailor scribbles the last of the measurements in his notebook and stands. He gathers the three chosen bolts and notes them in the notebook before closing it and turning to gather his materials. He'll have to hurry back to the shop and get started immediately if he is to have this order done for Friday.

He bows distractedly to his model and watches the Count dismiss him. The tailor has heard the rumors, of course, but he dares not think about them now, not with such a demanding customer and the chance to earn such a handsome sum.

"My secretary will handle the rest," Ray says, opening a door for the tailor. "I'll have my assistant help you take your materials back to your carriage and then you can speak to Eduard. I look forward to seeing you Friday for the fitting." Ray gives the man a small bow and waves him off towards Jameson. Then he goes to his study and composes a letter to Solomon Sugar.

XXXXX

"It will do," Ray decides, studying Florian's clothing critically. He leans closer and loosens the outer robe, draping it lower on Florian's shoulder. "Now lean back.

Florian shifts several small silk pillows and leans back against them, stretching out on the fainting couch. His feet are bare, but almost lost under the layers of robes. Ray moves in and adjusts the robes again, then steps back, considering. He is finally satisfied.

"Show me," he commands, watching as Florian shifts languidly, the robes slipping down off his one shoulder.

"Nice," Ray nods. "But save it. Don't reveal too much too soon." He waits for Florian to agree before taking the case from the side table and opening it.

He lifts the heavy latticework of gold and amethysts and undoes the clasp, settling the elaborate necklace around Florian's neck and fastening it. It shimmers against his pale skin and makes his violet eyes glow.

"Beautiful," Ray breathes, his hand tracing the edge of the piece where it angles down Florian's bare chest. He smiles when Florian shivers. "It's a shame Sugar will see you like this."

"I could change," Florian offers.

"No, it's part of the plan, remember." Florian nods. "You can do this, right?" Florian nods again; he can do this.

"You won't be angry?" Florian asks, his voice catching in this throat. "I mean, if he chooses me?"

"It is my own fault," Ray counters, caressing Florian's face tenderly. "He brings out the worst in me. But a promise must be kept."

Florian nods bravely. "Yes, it must."

Ray kisses him sweetly, then lingers close, inhaling the fragrance he insisted Florian use. It is spicy and exotic, but not too heavy, just enough to add enticement.

They're still close when Luc knocks at the door of the drawing room, announcing Solomon's arrival.

Ray walks over and opens the door himself, sending Luc away and letting Solomon in before locking the door. The drapes are already closed and the room is lit only by candles.

Solomon sees Florian and smiles widely before looking back at Ray. "I half-expected you to lock your pretty toy away. I know you don't like to let people play with your belongings."

"I made a promise," Ray retorts, sounding offended. He motions to the cart with tea service and canapés. "Refreshment?" he asks with only a slight edge in his voice.

"I don't like to snack when the main course is waiting," Solomon slips off his suit jacket and tosses it towards Ray. He doesn't look to see where it lands before closing in on his prize. He's been waiting over a week for this night.

Florian is attractive enough, if a bit unskilled, but he's Ray's favorite toy and that makes him irresistible to Solomon. If this is as close as he gets to having his dear black cat, he'll accept it.

His attention is fully on that slender body draped in silks, clothing so like Ray's preferred attire. The glitter of gold and jewels doesn't even register at first. His hand is inches away, his mind racing ahead. It's only when Florian shifts and that fine fabric slides down silken skin that Solomon realizes what he's seeing.

His fingers clasp metal instead of flesh. "Is this?" He pulls back and turns to Ray, demanding. "Where did you get this necklace?"

"Why do you ask?" Ray counters casually, fixing himself a cup of coffee.

"Because it's proof that you're Noir, my dear black cat. And you wouldn't be displaying it so casually unless you were trying to get out of our deal."

"I have no idea what you're going on about, Sugar. You kept your part of the bargain, I'm keeping mine. I even had Florian's robes specially made to go with that necklace, just for tonight."

"This is the necklace you stole from the Duchess Montmorency eight months ago." Solomon presses a finger into Ray's chest.

"You mean the necklace I purchased at great personal risk a week ago, just for you." Ray pushes Solomon's finger away and takes a sip of coffee to hide his smirk.

"What do you mean you bought it for me? Why would you buy me stolen jewelry?"

"Because the person who had it didn't know it had been stolen and needed to get rid of it quickly. I could have told him about the very large finder's fee, but I decided to make it a gift to you instead."

Solomon drops into a chair, staring at the necklace, then Ray, then back at the necklace again. He has a sinking feeling that he won't be playing with Ray's favorite toy after all. Damnit!

"Let me guess," he says at last, taking the glass of brandy that Ray offers and swallowing it in one go. "You're giving me a choice – a night with your pretty toy or the necklace."

"You are a detective," Ray comments mildly, taking a drink of coffee to hide his smirk.

"You're willing to give up both the necklace – which you stole – and the finder's fee – which is more than I make in two years, by the way, all for the sake of keeping your toy all to yourself."

"I never did play well with others," Ray agrees, refilling Solomon's glass. "And I did not steal the necklace and neither did Noir. That robbery had all the elegance of a train wreck."

"Snob," Solomon says affectionately, reaching up to touch Ray's face. "I should choose your toy just to see the look on your face."

"And never see that necklace again."

"My beloved black cat is so cruel," Solomon laments, staggering to his feet. Ray doesn't believe for a moment that he is actually drunk, but he watches carefully anyway.

I suppose it can't be helped," Solomon finally admits. He sets his empty glass down deliberately and walks over to Florian who has remained still throughout the entire exchange.

"A pity," he tells the blond, leaning down and gripping his hair as he gives him a passionate kiss. His other hand roams freely under the silk robes before sliding behind Florian's neck and unfastening the necklace. He pulls away reluctantly, jewelry in hand.

"Next time," he promises. "You won't get away so easily." He places the necklace in the case that Ray holds open for him and snaps it closed decisively. "Nor will you," he promises, managing to place a quick kiss on Ray's lips before the younger man pulls away.

"Good evening gentlemen, I'll show myself out." He reclaims his jacket and strides out of the room as if he owns the place.

Ray wipes his mouth and looked disgusted. He pours some of that brandy into his cup and downs it before refilling and giving it to Florian. Florian drinks like he is desperate then gives the empty cup back to Ray with a sheepish smile. Ray takes it and sets it on the side table.

"You know," Ray says suddenly, using his hip to push Florian over, and taking a seat. "I'm going to have to add the cost of that necklace to your account. What with the amount I gave your mother, your expenses, those robes, and now the necklace, you'll never be free of me."

He presses Florian back onto the pillows and lets his hands undo the robes. "You owe me so much I couldn't get rid of you even if I wanted to."

He looks directly into Florian's hopeful eyes and adds, "I suppose I'll have to give you a job - so you can start paying off that debt."

Florian nods eagerly.

"Good. You're my new secretary. The current one can't write to save his life." He catches the unease in Florian's gaze and adds, "Come up to bed and I'll tell you all about your duties."

Florian releases his hold and lets Ray up before accepting the hand he offers. He presses himself eagerly against Ray. "Yes, master."

"No," Ray stops him and Florian flinches. Ray soothes him by stroking his face. "Can't have my secretary calling me master. Ray will do, or boss if you must."

Florian nods, smiling so widely he thinks his face might break. "Yes, boss."


	5. Azura pt 1

"Over." Ray commands as soon as he enters the room. He pauses just long enough to lock the door before taking four long strides to the bed, tossing aside the bedclothes and grabbing Florian's leg.

His arrival wakes Florian from a sound sleep, but the blond barely has time to open his eyes before he is roughly turned on his stomach. His nightshirt is pushed up and Ray is inside him before Florian has time to understand what is happening.

He is still sore from the last time, just a few hours before, and the harsh, uneven rhythm does nothing to ease the pain. He presses his face into the damp pillow and sheds more silent tears. It will be fast, as every other joining has been since Ray received that letter from his old friend.

The initial excitement over traveling to exotic lands in such luxurious accommodations faded quickly. Florian is spending most of the long trip confined to their cabin, held there by his seasickness and Ray's demands. Florian tried to please him at first, now he simply waits for it to be over and for Ray to leave again. Nights are the worst, with Ray too drunk or uncaring to notice Florian's misery.

They're six days away from their destination and Florian wonders if he'll make it. He grips the sheet and bites his lip hard to keep from screaming when Ray presses especially deep and spends himself. The usually welcome warmth of Ray's body atop his own is one more burden Florian must bear. He holds himself as limp as possible and waits, knowing there will be no tender caress, no soft words. There is only pain as Ray withdraws and walks away. Florian remains still, listening to Ray clean himself and change into his formalwear for dinner with the captain. It's only when the door closes that Florian moves, shifting to the side of the bed and leaning over the waiting bucket where he is violently ill.

Breathing raggedly and barely able to stand, Florian carries the bucket into the bathroom where he cleans it, then cleans himself, taking special care with his teeth and breath. He's light-headed when he returns to the bed setting aside his sweat-soaked nightshirt and drawing on a clean one, along with some loose trousers. He calls for housekeeping to take the laundry and remake the bed with fresh linens. The two women who arrive work efficiently and give him only motherly looks of concern, not the condemning, disdainful looks he's become used to since being sold to Ray. The older of the two women hesitates on her way out, then looks directly at him. She gives him a sympathetic smile and hurries away, leaving a bit of comfort in her wake.

Florian settles into the stiff armchair slowly and takes up his book. Ray assigned him an entire pile to be read by the end of the journey and Florian's afraid of what will happen if he doesn't finish them. It's dry reading, full of politics and history and Florian struggles with every page, but he persists, hoping that it will soften Ray's current mood.

Florian's half-asleep when a quiet knock startles him. He sets the book down and rises as quickly as he can. He doesn't expect to find Laila on the other side, her face lined with concern.

"Let me in," she demands, pushing him aside and closing the door quickly. She locks it, leaning back against it and breathing rapidly. "I'm not allowed in first class without Ray, but he's in the bar, drinking, again. I..." She can't meet his eyes and Florian knows she isn't here out of concern for him. "He booked me and the others in third class. I barely see him and he's... there's something wrong and he won't talk to me."

Florian motions her towards a chair and offers tea from the service that had been delivered hours ago. It is cold, but it is all he has to offer. She accepts gratefully and drinks without protest.

"He's not actually talking to me either," Florian eases himself into the opposite chair and tries not to wince, knowing she is watching. She nods, with perhaps a hint of understanding, knowing full well what Florian isn't saying.

"I thought things had changed... between you."

"They had until that letter arrived. Do you know anything about this friend we're going to see?"

"No, Ray never mentioned him before. Although…" she looks away, frowning, as if making a difficult decision. After an awkward silence, she turns back to him. "I've only seen him drink like this once before. I don't know what caused it, but I found him in his study with the empty bottle. When I helped him to bed he called me Azura." She closes her eyes as if in pain, but continues. "He asked me if I regretted saving his life."

Florian leans forward, ignoring his own pain and places a gentle hand on Laila's arm. "Ray's strong, Laila. Your support will help him through this, whatever this is. You just have to be patient."

Laila opens her eyes, blinking away the moisture as she regards Florian with surprise and curiosity. "I… thank you." She stands abruptly, her expression softer than usual. She straightens her clothing to avoid looking at Florian again, then walks to the door quickly. She half-turns back towards him where he now stands in front of his chair watching her. "I'll have soup sent down. You need to eat to keep up your strength."

Without waiting for his startled thanks, she eases the door open and peers out before making a quick exit.

Florian looks down at the pile of books and shakes his head. His mind is too full to concentrate anyway. He'll try again later. Perhaps he'll even risk a walk on deck before Ray comes back.

A few minutes later, Florian is still wandering around the cabin, tidying up, when a knock sounds on the door. To his surprise, it is a waiter pushing a service cart with soup, tea and an array of crackers and a basket of fruit, breads and cheese.

"The lady requested something light for you, sir. I understand you're a bit under the weather." The waiter is a thin, older man with a lined face and ruddy skin, but he has a pleasant voice and works efficiently as he talks. "Not to worry, sir. It's common for our first-time travelers to have a bit of trouble adjusting. This food will fix you right up – not too heavy, but it will give you strength. There you go sir. Call if you need anything. Good evening sir."

The man bows and exits, leaving a nicely laid out table, complete with tablecloth and flowers in a vase. The sight gives Florian comfort and the soup smells wonderful. He settles into the chair and takes a cautious sip, waiting several long moments to see how it settles before deciding it will be all right to continue.

The light broth is delicious and the crackers are just salty enough to help settle the unease in his stomach. Before he realizes, the dishes are empty and he is comfortably full for the first time in days.

Feeling revived, he clears the small table and places the dishes back on the cart, draping the cloth napkin over them before placing the cart outside the cabin door. He checks his pocketwatch for the time and dismisses the idea of going on deck. It's later than he thought and he doesn't want Ray returning to an empty cabin.

Taking up his book again, he settles into the chair, determined to finish the chapter at least. He manages to finish two before fatigue has his eyes closing. He's weak from his illness and Ray's demands and tires easily. Despite that, he resolves to prepare for his patron's arrival.

Indulging in another bath, he uses lightly scented oils to soften his skin and prepare for Ray's attentions. He towels his hair dry and combs it smooth. He brushes his teeth again, and sweetens his breath. Still naked, he walks to the wardrobe and selects one of his silk robes, tying it loosely. The silk slides sensuously over his skin as he moves.

With a smile, Florian reclaims the book and settles on the bed, arranging the robes and himself carefully. He'll remain like this until Ray returns, and then he'll try once more to please his master.

XXXXX

Ray staggers into the cabin an hour later, nearly numb from hours of drinking. He sees Florian immediately, reclining on the bed and smiling.

Stomach lurching, Ray dashes for the bathroom where he is violently ill. He pushes away Florian's comforting hands and offers of cool water while he clings to the toilet and wishes for death.

When those hands touch him again, so gently but tentatively, Ray explodes. He rises, shoving Florian hard enough to send him out of the bathroom, onto the cabin floor. Ray sees Florian's pained expression but it doesn't stop his rampage. He reaches for his whip where it lays, coiled and waiting.

The first lash catches Florian across his bared chest. The second parallels it. The whip is raised for a third strike when, instead of cowering, Florian tugs his robe open and prostrates himself, flat on his back and fully exposed.

Ray leaves a stripe across his belly and one across his right thigh. Florian flinches, but holds his position without a sound.

"Damn you." A stripe across the left thigh.

Damn you." Another stripe across the belly.

"Damn you!!" A cross-stripe on the chest.

Ray raises his whip again, his whole body trembling. Without striking he throws the whip down next to Florian's body and falls to his knees, chest heaving.

"Ray?" Florian sits up with a groan. He enfolds the younger man in his arms, tears filling his eyes, not for his own pain but for that of his master.

"Don't," Ray protests brokenly. "Don't treat me with kindness." He reaches up and grabs Florian's hair, forcing his head back painfully so he can look directly into those violet depths. "Break, damn you."

Ray shifts without warning, still gripping Florian's hair, he uses that hold to force Florian down onto his back. Ray presses him down with his body, covering Florian, taking him brutally. "Break." He demands as he thrusts. "Break."

Unsure of how to react, Florian wraps his arms and legs around Ray and holds him close, aiding in his own destruction. When Ray finally collapses, spent, Florian continues to hold him until Ray drifts into sleep.

Florian shifts Ray aside and rises slowly. He turns down the bedding and lifts Ray up, struggling, but finally managing to get the man into bed. He removes Ray's outer layer of clothing and straightens his undergarments as well as he can.

Casting aside his robe, Florian checks his wounds, thankful that none of them are really bleeding. He staggers into the bathroom and wipes away the blood. His vision is darkening and he feels like he might faint, but he's thankful that the nausea has settled, at least for now. Without bothering to dress, he returns to the main cabin and slides into bed. He hopes to rest and gain a little strength for whatever comes next.

XXXXX

"I can't do this," Ray whispers into his pillow, his voice breaking. He's gripping the fine linen of the pillowcase hard enough that his knuckles are white, but Florian doesn't dare say anything. Instead, he remains on his side of the bed, frozen by indecision.

Ray's made it clear that he doesn't want Florian's touch, yet every rigid line in his body cries out for comfort. Casting up a silent plea to whatever deity might listen to a damned soul, Florian moves a hand to his master's back, placing it lightly. When Ray doesn't object, Florian strokes Ray's back like he would a frightened child's. Ray buries his head in the pillow and his shoulders tremble.

Florian spends the next twenty minutes offering silent comfort until the rigid shoulders finally ease and Ray drifts into sleep. Florian curls up close, but slightly apart and finally rests.

He wakes to a once-familiar caress, calloused fingers stroking his face and toying softly with his hair. He has to force himself to open his eyes, half-afraid he's dreaming.

"Ray?" he breathes the name like a prayer.

"It's 'master'." Ray corrects mildly. "For now and until I tell you otherwise, you must call me master."

"Yes, master." Florian is more than happy to comply, although he doesn't understand. It wasn't so long ago that Ray had told him not to call him that.

"I should have told you sooner." Ray shakes his head and looks away. "No, I should not have brought you at all, but it can't be helped. He wouldn't have spared you either way."

Ray's voice changes and he presses his hand against Florian's face. "We'll be in Morocco soon. Azura demanded that I come, and bring my servants. He knew about you, of course. He keeps track of all his pets, including me."

Ray shifts uncomfortably and finally stands. "He saved my life, years ago when I was a child. He owns me because of it. And now he owns you as well. He's a cruel master, Florian. He won't indulge you like I do. He'll do his best to break you and he'll enjoy every minute of it. The things I've done to you these last few weeks are nothing compared to his smallest cruelties."

Ray leans forward, cupping Florian's face in his hands and looking into those amethyst eyes. "Deities help me, there's nothing I can do to save you. There's nothing I can do to save either of us."

"Then I will have to save us both." Florian reaches up and mirrors Ray's touch. The fear and weakness will come later, and will have to be overcome, but right now he feels only strength, drawn from the love of his master.


	6. Azura pt 2

Laila bolts upright in bed, heart beating fast as she reacts to the anguished cry beyond the wall. She flees to the tiny bathroom and plunges her hands into the basin of cool water in a fruitless attempt to calm their trembling. She splashes water on her face and towels herself dry, moving slowly as an excuse to remain hidden away for a few precious seconds. 

It's pointless she knows as she sets the damp towel aside and trudges back into her tiny room. The sounds are louder here and standing just a bit more to either the right or left will allow her a narrow view of the room beyond.

The room where her beloved master and his pet are being tormented.

She takes a deep, steadying breath before pressing her eye to the opening in the masonry, part of a pattern intended to allow light and air to circulate to the tiny servant area she currently occupies.

The sounds beyond have changed, growing quieter but more desperate. Laila knows what that means, but she looks anyway, unable to stop herself.

Azura's robes conceal most of what's happening in the large bed, but she catches glimpses of pale flesh between two shades of brown. The lighter is below, reaching up and around Florian's torso while Azura's darker body presses them both down into the disheveled bedding.

She doesn't have to see the details to know that Florian's pinned between them like a puppet, with no free will or control. He's the one making most of the noise, moans and soft keening that almost sounds like crying.

Azura is kinder tonight, or she mercifully missed the violence that usually precedes these activities. She'll find out soon enough – when Azura sends Ray back to the library to continue his work and leaves Florian for her to piece back together in time for Azura's next visit.

Azura silences Florian with a hand over his mouth as he finishes with the blond. Below them, Ray reaches completion with a long moan and goes limp. Azura shifts to the side and Laila quickly pulls back, afraid of being caught by that merciless blue eye.

She waits, curled up on the thin mattress, finally drifting back to sleep until voices wake her again. She risks a look and sees Ray,  
dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed, smoothing Florian's hair tenderly. Azura is gone and she watches as her master steals a moment with his pet.

"How are you?" Ray asks softly, his hand still caressing Florian's hair. There are fresh bruises on the pale face and Ray carefully avoids touching them.

"Don't worry about me," Florian answers. He reaches up to Ray, wincing at the movement.

"Don't." Ray catches his hand and kisses it. "Laila will be in to help. Let her take care of you." He leans down and kisses Florian sweetly before sitting upright again. "I'll finish today. I promise I'll get you out of here today."

Florian touches Ray's arm and gives him a weak smile. "Don't promise, Ray. Unless it's a promise to do whatever you must to keep yourself and Laila safe. He's not going to let me go with you."

"He will. He…"

"He already sent your men home, Ray. You have to take care of them, and Laila." Florian winces and shifts uncomfortably on the bed. "He wants you to think only of him. He won't let you keep me."

"We'll find a way. I am a famous thief after all."

"He'll break me if he has to. The opium…"

"Do whatever you must to avoid that." Ray grips Florian's shoulders tight enough to make Florian cry out. "Do anything to keep from being drugged. Opium steals men's minds." He pulls Florian up into a tight embrace, not caring that Florian cries out. "I'd rather give you up than have you lose yourself like that."

"I'll do what I can. But Ray…" Florian closes his eyes to hide his tears. He's said nothing to Ray about Azura's mid-afternoon visit and his taunts about selling Ray's Amethyst to a new master. Florian doesn't doubt it for a moment, he only hopes that his new master is kinder than Azura. Not that it really matters – Florian will savor his last precious moments with Ray, and with his life. His birthday is next week, he doesn't expect to reach it.

Florian catches Ray's sleeve as the younger man moves to stand. He offers him a smile as lovely as he can manage. "I love you."

It's the first time the words have been spoken and it changes something in Ray. Florian can see it happen, but he doesn't understand it. He pulls himself up slowly and touches Ray's face, breathing his name.

Ray leans down again and holds Florian gently, pressing his lips to the older man's hair. "Florian."

A noise in the doorway interrupts them and they both flinch. Ray reluctantly moves towards the waiting servant, turning for one last look before he disappears from view.

Laila's chest aches as she watches Florian press his face into a pillow and weep.  
XXXXX

"Leave us," Azura waves Laila away, not seeming to care that she's only dressed a few of Florian's wounds. Some of the day-old whip marks re-opened during the night's activities and she's been trying to clean them.

"Just go." Azura stops Laila as she begins to gather her basin and herbs. "You won't be needing them. Return to your room."

Laila nods once, her eyes seeking out Florian's but the blond looks away quickly. She hurries to her little cell and presses her eye to the openwork to confirm her unhappy suspicions.

"Prepare him quickly, his new owner is waiting." Azura watches as his servants pull Florian to his feet, not caring that he's naked and drag him into the bathroom. Laila can hear water running and indistinct conversation. She steps back, afraid someone will notice that she's watching, but has to look again when she hears Florian cry out.

The servants drag Florian back into the room, dripping water everywhere. They towel him dry roughly and then rub oil into his skin,  
not caring that it hurts him. Azura watches impassively, waiting until a set of gauzy robes are draped over the anguished blond before motioning him forward. He takes up the opium pipe that another servant has prepared and forces it between Florian's lips. He holds it there while the blond takes the drug and goes limp.

Azura catches him, turning slightly to look directly at the wall where Laila watches, and smiles in a way that makes Laila tremble. He shakes the blond a little and forces him back to his feet. "Come, pet, it's time to meet your new master."

Azura gestures to yet another servant waiting at the door and after a few seconds a new person enters. Laila bites down hard on her lip to keep from crying out.

Sugar!

The detective nods to Azura, then smiles at the compliant blond. He holds out a familiar case and flips it open to reveal a familiar gold and amethyst necklace. Laila almost gasps at the recognition – it's the necklace Ray gave Solomon. But why...

"As agreed," Azura nods and motions for his servant to take the case. He pushes Florian forward and the blond stumbles a little as he is transferred into Solomon's arms. He blinks at the man but says nothing.

"Lovely," Solomon nods. He looks at Azura with a smile. "You don't mind if I... test the merchandise, do you?"

"Not if you don't mind an audience."

"If that is your pleasure." Solomon nods and looks at the servants. Azura waves them out, then settles into the only chair in the room –  
an overstuffed monstrosity that looks very out of place amid the Moroccan décor.

"Such a pretty pet," Solomon croons as he slides his hands down Florian's chest and under the robes. He frowns at the feel of lash marks.

"Nothing permanent," Azura assures him as he pours himself a drink from the pitcher on the nearby table.

"No matter," Solomon replies. "He's my dear black cat's treasure and I've stolen him away."

"So you have," Azura nods and glances in Laila's direction as Solomon forces Florian down onto the bed.

Laila curls up onto her mattress and presses her head against her knees, unable to watch any more. Every sound breaks her heart a little more and she thinks that it might not all be for her master's sake.

::end part 6 ::


	7. Azura pt 3

"Don't." Ray turns away from Laila's outstretched hand, pulling back from her soothing ointments and worried eyes.

"You're still bleeding." Laila tries to mask her concern with gentle efficiency, laying the warm cloth on Ray's bare shoulder where a particularly deep lash wound refuses to stop bleeding. Ray flinches but doesn't protest. He keeps his face turned slightly away, gaze fixed on something in the distance that Laila can't see.

"I'm sor…"

"Don't!" He turns towards her, eyes flashing a stormy green. He touches her face gently, hesitantly and finally meets her eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"But…" Laila stops quickly seeing the warning in those eyes. She bites down on the name she was about to utter and reminds herself sternly that she is never to speak of that person again.

How long has it been since Solomon Sugar took him away? Days? Weeks? It feels like an eternity since the pale blond had given her a brave smile and walked away on the end of his new master's leash. He was covered head-to-toe in concealing robes but Laila had known the wounds which all that fabric had covered. She can only hope that he is being treated more gently wherever he is now.

If only someone would come take her master away from this evil place as well. She'd thought it would be better with Florian gone, but his absence has only seemed to push Ray into openly defying Azura. Rather than abusing the blond, Azura now focuses his cruel attentions on Ray and Ray responds by becoming more stubborn and uncooperative. It is almost as if Ray is pushing Azura into punishing him. Is he trying to pay penance for what happened to Florian?

"I can't fight him anymore." Ray's confession is a painful whisper and his eyes are moist. "I can't risk your safety."

"No! Noi… Ray, you can't send me away. I'd rather be dead than see that man hurt you one more time."

"Don't talk like that!" Ray grips her hand urgently, his hold almost painful. "Laila, you have to leave here as soon as possible. If anything happens to you…" He pulls her into a painfully tight embrace, almost knocking the breath from her lungs.

"Noir." She breathes, trying to memorize the feel of him. How can he ask her to leave?

"Am I your master?" He pulls back and his expression hardens. He holds her gaze and demands she answer the question.

"Yes." She looks down, breaking the connection. She won't burden him by making him watch her heart break. "Master."

She throws herself at him suddenly, knocking him backwards onto the rumpled bed where he lay with Azura only minutes ago. His scent is in the sheets and she inhales deeply, blocking out the other scent. There is only her beloved Noir here, beneath her on the bed where he has suffered so many indignities. She will obey his wishes and leave, but not before she gives him the only comfort she has to offer.

"Laila?" Ray lifts his head a little to watch as she pushes aside what little clothing he has on. Her lips are marking a warm, moist trail downwards while her hands explore. Her one leg is pressed between his.

"No."

"Please." She looks up, tears misting her eyes. Ray's never seen her cry before and it makes this all the more painful. He catches her hands and urges her to look at him.

"We can't. It's not fair to you, Laila."

"Damn fairness! Since when is any of this fair?" She lays her head down on his stomach. "I may never see you again."

"Which is all the more reason not to do this." Ray places a hand gently on her head, letting it rest there. "You're my best friend, Laila, but you are not my lover and you are not my whore. I won't drag you down with the rest of us."

"With Florian, you mean." She pushes away from him and sits up, straightening her clothing. She keeps her face turned away, hiding her anger and her shame. The rejection hurts, but not as much as the knowledge that she'll never mean as much to her beloved as Florian does.

"Laila?" Ray's touch is warm and gentle and she damns herself twice over for responding. But she does, letting him turn her face towards his. His lips are as warm and soft as she's ever imagined. She closes her eyes and memorizes this, knowing it's pathetic to be grateful for scraps, but not caring. If this is all she'll ever have, then she'll accept it and be grateful. She wraps her arms around Ray, mindful of his injuries, and kisses him back.

"You'll always be my best, most trusted friend Laila. That's why I want you safe and happy. You deserve to find someone who will cherish you."

There's resignation and farewell in those green depths and Laila struggles not to let him know that she sees it. She's always been strong for him, she won't disappoint him now.

Slowly, reluctantly, she draws away, standing up and back so that only their hands are touching. One slight movement and even that contact will be lost. She gives him a beautiful smile. "I'll be waiting for you, Noir. Florian too. I'll cook something really special when you return."

He accepts her offer for what it is and his gratitude shines in his eyes. Without words he turns and lets her tend his wounds. One last act of comfort before she walks away. A servant is waiting in the doorway to escort her to the ship that will take her home.

She leaves behind her ointments and a promise that comforts Ray even when Azura returns and presses him down onto the rumpled bedding.

::end part 7::


	8. Azura pt4

He wakes up screaming. The sound is muffled by a gag, his thrashing is restrained by the ropes binding his wrists and ankles. Terrified, he struggles harder, barely aware of the pain in his body or the throbbing in his head. His wrists grow slick with sweat and blood but he doesn't stop. Hurried footsteps approach and he fights harder, tears staining his face.

"Florian!"

There's a moment of blinding white as a hand connects with the side of his face. It steals his breath and while he recovers, he feels gentle hands loosening the ropes. His arms begin to tingle as circulation returns.

"Are you calm now?" Florian recognizes the voice but can't remember the name or the face that goes with it. His vision is still blurred and he blinks rapidly hoping to clear it.

"Just relax, you'll be fine in a moment." The hands are gentle. They lift him up and brace him against warm, solid flesh. Florian turns his head towards the voice and feels the roughness of beard stubble. "Ray." He nuzzles into his lover's embrace and closes his eyes. He's drifting back towards sleep when the body supporting him shifts and large hands ease him down onto a rough blanket. Florian's eyes open again.

"Ray?" His mind is still muddled, but little things keep pricking his subconscious. It's wrong – the voice, the body, the scent. Florian's heart is racing again and he sits up quickly, almost overbalancing when one of his tingling arms almost gives out.

"You're withdrawing from the opium," the voice tells him as those hands hold him again.

"Solomon. Solomon Sugar." Florian mumbles as he finally connects a name and face with the voice. It is and isn't a relief. "You took me from Ray."

Florian knows he sounds like a petulant child but he can't help himself. His mind is still foggy. Thankfully, his vision seems to be improving at last. He can see the man's smile and the way his glasses reflect the light shining in through the small window.

"And Azura. Just as Ray asked me to."

"What?" Florian suddenly feels much clearer, as if he's been doused with cold water. He manages to sit up on his own and face Solomon.

"When Ray got Azura's letter, he contacted me. We made a bargain – that I would rescue you from Azura in exchange for a generous  
payment."

"But you… we…" Florian gestures to indicate his nakedness and their proximity in the messy bed.

"Yes we did. And we'll continue to do so until Ray is free and we are safely on a ship. Perhaps even longer." Solomon takes Florian's chin in his hand and leans in to add, "Did you think I would do all this just for the money? There are considerable risks involved."

Florian nods. He feels lightheaded and very tired all of a sudden. "My head hurts."

"It's the opium withdrawal," Solomon tells him. "You're almost free of it. Come have something to eat and drink; you'll feel much better."

He throws aside the last of the blankets and stands, offering Florian a steadying hand. He leads the unsteady blond towards a small table with two chairs and a platter of fruits and breads. A robe is draped over the back of one chair and Solomon helps Florian into it before taking a seat. The detective is already wearing a matching robe and Florian thinks he looks odd in the unfamiliar garb. He glances down at himself and wonders if he looks different like this or if it better suits his new life as a concubine.

He downs half the cool fruit drink in one go finding it refreshingly tart but wishing it was something stronger. Perhaps he should have succumbed to the opium, letting it steal his mind so he wouldn't have to think. His hand shakes as he reaches for a square of sweetbread.

"Slowly," Solomon scolds him mildly. "Let your system adjust or you'll be sick."

"I'm sorry." Florian puts down the bread and bows his head. He waits for the inevitable punishment and is startled when Solomon reaches over and pats his head.

"Don't be so afraid, I'm not Azura. I just don't want to you make yourself sick."

Florian nods, but he doesn't look up and he doesn't start eating again. After a long silence, he glances up at Solomon without raising his head. "Why are you helping me? You don't even like me."

"Ray knew you'd be in danger. He asked me to rescue you. He even provided the money to get me here and to compensate me for the loss of the finder's fee for that necklace." Solomon reaches over and places two more slices of sweetbread and a small bunch of grapes on Florian's plate. "Besides, who said I don't like you? I certainly liked you well enough a few hours ago."

Florian obediently eats the food on his plate, keeping his face downturned. He can feel himself blushing and a spark of anger flares in his chest. A servant and a whore, is that his only worth?

"Do you remember what we were doing a few hours ago?"

Solomon's voice holds a hint of amusement and Florian can feel the anger growing. He presses it back, chewing slowly to buy time before responding.

"Of course you don't," Solomon continues, reaching out and stealing a grape from Florian's plate. "Opium withdrawal can do that, cause you to forget." He taps a finger on the top of Florian's head to get the blond to look up. When Florian complies, Solomon grins. "You were singing."

"Singing?" Of all the answers, Florian certainly didn't expect that. He blushes deep red; he doesn't exactly have a voice for singing in public.

"Quite nicely, actually. You were reciting riddles too. Not quite how I expected to spend my evening, but it was entertaining. I can see why Ray treasures you."

Florian studies Solomon, looking for a hint of teasing or condescension. He seems sincere, and Florian relaxes a little.

"But why was I tied up?"

"Nightmares, probably brought on by the withdrawal. You were thrashing quite violently and I was afraid you might hurt yourself."

"I don't remember," Florian mumbles, but he looks away as he says it, his imagination supplying all manner of nightmare-inducing memories.

"Of course not. Just as well. You're over the worst of the withdrawal now so I wouldn't expect any more troubling dreams."

Florian wishes he could be so optimistic. He finishes the things on his plate in silence, then pushes it away. He isn't really full, but his stomach feels queasy and he desperately wants to sleep.

"You must be tired," Solomon rises and offers his hand to Florian. The blond hesitates, then accepts the offer, letting Solomon pull him up into a loose embrace.

"I can't…" Florian feels tears threatening and quickly closes his eyes. Memories of those days in Azura's mansion flood his mind, overwhelming him. Florian just can't submit to Solomon while Ray is still a prisoner of that madman.

"I may take advantage of a situation on occasion but I am not a rapist. I did what was necessary to secure your release from Azura and I won't apologize for it. In fact, I'll do it again if I consider it necessary. Now I'm tired and need a nap. This room has one bed. You can trust me or you can have the chair. Your choice."

Florian eyes the very uncomfortable looking chair, then looks at Solomon who is still holding him loosely, waiting.

"I'm sorry. I don't. . . I owe you my thanks. No matter what was between us in the past, you risked your life to save me."

"Damn right." Solomon agrees. He pushes Florian back so he is sitting on the edge of the bed then reaches for the fastener on his robe.

"What are you. . .?"

"If you want to end up twisted in knots in this thing, fine. But you'll be too warm and won't sleep well." Solomon strips off his own robe, letting it drop to the floor as he climbs past Florian into the bed. "Remind me to have the maid in here later."

Florian nods and slips out of the robe. He settles into place at the edge of the mattress, suddenly feeling every ache in his wounded body. He closes his eyes and tries to relax, but can't stop the memories of Azura from intruding. He feels himself begin to tremble, but the more he fights it, the harder he shakes.

With a half-sob of desperation, he shifts, seeking the solid warmth to his left. He reaches out blindly to touch Solomon half afraid of what will happen once he makes contact. After agonizing seconds, Florian is rewarded with a gentle hand drawing him close and warm lips pressing a kiss against his forehead.

"I'll keep you safe," Solomon whispers, drawing the light blanket up over them.

Florian rests his head on Solomon's chest and slips off into sleep, desperately hoping that, for once, his trust won't be betrayed.

::end part 8::


	9. Azura pt 5

"Done." Ray slumps back in his chair, the piece of paper clutched in his hand. He's too exhausted to even manage a smile. He clenches his fist, crumpling the paper, and fights the irrational desire to tear it to shreds.

He stares out the window, seeing only the blue sky and the false promise of freedom. He can only hope that Florian and Laila are safely away from this beautiful prison. As for himself, he has few illusions about ever being free again.

"Resting?" Azura smiles, predator like and slinks into the room. He rounds the desk and slides a proprietary hand down Ray's chest as he leans over to read the paper. "I take it you've solved our little puzzle."

"Was there any doubt." He smiles up at his master. "It's straightforward enough now. You won't need me for the next part."

"Nonsense." Azura's hand curls possessively as he tightens his hold. "You wouldn't want to miss this. Imagine the jewels; you'll be able to bathe in them."

Ray is tempted to say that there is only one set of jewels he is interested in, but it is safer for Florian and himself to remain silent. Instead, he reaches up to Azura, drawing him down for a kiss. "I've never bathed in jewels before."

"Then you must try it. Come, I'll give you a little preview." Azura takes the paper and tucks it away in a hidden pocket while Ray closes the last of the reference books and abandons the desk where he's spent so many hours.

Azura barely waits until they are in the bedroom to begin stripping Ray. His hands are demanding as are his lips and Ray trembles. Azura misinterprets Ray's reaction as passion and increases his attentions. He doesn't care that Ray barely reciprocates. Azura demands nothing less than total control and he knows Ray understands this. After all, Azura trained him well when they were still nothing but street rats. Ray's time in Paris was simply a diversion meant to make him more interesting.

And interesting he is, with his illusions of independence; symbolized by his little blond pet. A pity the boy had to go; he'd been an interesting addition to their intimacies. Still, it wouldn't do for Ray's attention or his loyalty to waver. Azura would not tolerate that but, though he would never admit it, he didn't enjoy punishing Ray - at least he didn't enjoy it often.

But Florian… he'd been the perfect victim with his porcelain skin and compelling violet eyes. If ever a person had been born to suffer it is him.

Perhaps, once Ray becomes accustomed to his new life here Azura will reclaim the boy. He smiles at the thought and presses his fingers hard into Ray's flesh just to hear him moan. Azura likes to make his partner beg and cry, he loves drawing out sounds as if he is a musician playing his favorite instrument. And Ray is his favorite. It had been a mistake to let him go, one that he doesn't intend to make again.

He pulls Ray down onto the soft mattress, barely taking the time to push aside clothing before he possesses him. He doesn't believe in a higher power, but Azura thinks this claiming is his glimpse of heaven. He draws it out, the sounds, the sensations, until he's almost powerless. He allows himself release then, spending himself as deeply inside his precious Ray as he can. He even allows himself a long moment of resting, breathless and sweat-soaked before pulling out and away. This is the closest to being vulnerable he ever allows himself to come and it's one more reason Ray can never be allowed to leave.  
XXXXX

Ray holds himself limp and still. Azura's breathing is slow and even, an indication that he's finally asleep. He sleeps lightly and any movement will awaken him, so Ray keeps still and plans.

He owes Azura a debt, he knows that, but he doesn't owe him his life. Azura is different now, still cold and cruel, but he's shown Ray kindness, especially since Florian was sent away. At first Ray hoped it was a sign that Azura had changed, that he would be content with Ray's help in solving the riddle and would let Ray go when he had the treasure.

Ray knows better now. Azura would not expose his vulnerabilities to someone who would be allowed to go free. Azura would only risk that with someone who was completely under his control, someone he believed would never oppose him.

Ray thinks of the beautiful, brave young man who had taken him in, who had saved him from a life of shame and degradation. Someone who had once allowed him to go free. The man beside him is no longer that person.

With grim determination, Ray closes his eyes and begins to plan Azura's death.

::end part 9::


	10. Azura pt 6

"We're being watched," Solomon hisses as he pulls Florian close and places a proprietary arm around his waist. "Cover yourself." 

Florian reaches up with his right hand and pulls the hood lower over his face, just short of obscuring his vision. He keeps his left hand at his side, concealing the thick bracelet that identifies him as a slave and Solomon as his owner. Florian knows that Solomon bought him at Ray's request as a way to free him from Azura. That knowledge doesn't make the situation any easier to accept.

Sitting in that musty back room while Solomon and the jeweler haggled over the price of the bracelet had been bad enough. Having the jeweler staring at him with undisguised lust, being touched so casually while the man fitted, then welded the bracelet, hearing the comments the man made to Solomon; that was surely one of the most humiliating experiences of his life.

Solomon had explained it, of course, how the bracelet was a necessary part of the deception, that it would make Solomon's ownership more convincing. How could Florian argue against it? As always, he was at someone else's mercy.

"We're here. Remember your place, slave." Solomon releases his hold and Florian obediently lowers his head and steps back.

They enter the dimly lit restaurant and push past the crowded tables in the front to take seats at a small table in the back. Solomon orders for both with brisk efficiency, not bothering to ask what Florian would like. The food arrives, delivered by a young boy who sets the loaded tray down unsteadily and hurries back to the kitchen without a word.

Solomon palms the folded note barely visible under one of the plates before sliding the tray towards Florian and waiting for him to serve. Florian's movements are hindered by the large cloak and his attempts to keep the bracelet concealed. He manages to set everything out without spilling, but he's so unsettled he can barely eat.

"Don't waste my money," Solomon chides and Florian blushes. They eat in silence and don't linger over the meal. They don't speak again until they are back in their hotel room.

"Stay there," Solomon commands as he makes a thorough survey of the room. Someone's been there in their absence and wanted them to know it. The room isn't ransacked, thankfully, but items have clearly been moved or rearranged. Solomon knows it's a reminder from Azura and it makes him more determined to carry out his plan.

"Florian!" The blond turns away from the window, startled by the anger in Solomon's voice. He's pulled roughly backwards and stumbles on the hem of his cloak. He's caught by strong arms and a solid chest, his body twisted awkwardly. Before he can regain his footing, he's pushed back onto the bed.

"Stay away from the window. You draw too much attention." Solomon is digging through his suitcase and finally finds what he'd been seeking. "Hold still while I put this on." He clips the leash to Florian's bracelet and loops the other end over a knob on the headboard.

"I have to go out for a while and I can't take you with me. You may walk around, but you are on your honor to keep this on." Solomon leans over Florian and whispers in his ear. "Don't let anyone in. If someone enters without permission, you may defend yourself but you may not leave this room. You're safer here than out there. Remember that."

Florian nods his head and doesn't turn away when Solomon kisses him. He turns onto his side and watches the man slip the note from the restaurant into his pocket along with a small knife. He already has the gun concealed in his waistband.

When he's gone, the room is uncomfortably still. Despite the heat, Florian shivers.  
XXXXX

"Are you Isaac?" Solomon looks around uncomfortably. He's in the poorest section of town and despite his efforts to blend in, he's drawing too much attention.

"Get in here," the old man snaps, barely waiting for Solomon to clear the door before he closes it again. "Take this." He shoves a length of braided leather at him, the cover for Solomon being here.

"Sit. Sit. Have something to drink." There are two cups already in place and Isaac fills them with dark liquid before taking a seat. He waits for Solomon to take a drink before drinking himself.

"We don't have much time. You know why I'm here."

"Of course, so listen up and I won't have to repeat myself. I knew Ray and Azura back then, along with the rest of their little group. I still have too many of those brats pestering me. But those two were something special. Smart as whips. Maybe too smart." He makes a disgusted noise and takes another drink.

"Ray was a little thing. All alone once his sick mother died. He was in a bad way until Azura took him in. Even then Azura had a nasty streak, but then I guess he needed it to survive. He kept Ray and the others safe, but Ray was his favorite, and Ray worshiped Azura. Could hardly believe it when Azura sent Ray off with his mother's family." He pauses long enough to refill both the cups.

"Wasn't long after that the man came. Called himself Romwell and fancied himself something special, I tell you. He took a liking to Azura, bad eye and all. Suppose the eye didn't matter much for what that man wanted. But Azura was smart and he got the man to take him back to America with him. Was gone for years and when he came back he was all fancy and acting like he was better than the rest of us." Isaac pauses and takes a long swallow of his drink, draining the cup before continuing.

"He was different after that. He might have been nasty before but he was plain evil when he came back. I heard rumors that he got that Romwell to adopt him then killed the man right in his own bed." Isaac shakes his head. "There's not much good left in him that I can see."

"Do you think he'll ever let Ray go?" Solomon is sure he knows the answer, but needs to hear it from someone else.

"Ray was a good boy then. I heard he did good for himself. He deserves to live the life he wants, not be chained to Azura." Isaac shakes his head again. "Not going to happen while Azura's around."

"Thank you," Solomon nods. He is finishing his drink when a knock sounds on the door. Isaac motions for him to remain seated and goes to let the person in.

"Thought you two might want to have a conversation." Isaac motions for the new visitor to take a seat and brings over another cup. He fills all three and sits. "From what I hear, you both have a common interest."

The man nods and shifts his robe aside just enough for Solomon to see the uniform underneath. Why would a Knight Templar want to see Azura dead?


	11. Azura pt 7

"You're not still sulking?" Azura strides across the room, frowning in displeasure. He takes the small pot of ointment from Ray and pushes the younger man back onto the bed. Azura takes a bit of ointment and smooths it gently over the barely-healed area high on Ray's left inner thigh. It is too red and irritated to distinguish, but soon it will heal into a replica of Azura's signet ring – the perfect brand for his treasured pet.

"I'm beginning to think I let you stay away too long. You've forgotten so much." Azura sets the ointment aside and wipes the last remnants across Ray's abdomen. "You should be thanking me for being so considerate; I could have branded you here." He leans down and presses a kiss against Ray's chest. "Or here." He kisses Ray's shoulder. "Or even here." A kiss on Ray's cheek. "Now, don't you want to show proper appreciation for my kindness?" He shifts and takes Ray's lower lip between his teeth biting just hard enough to make the lip bleed. When Azura lifts his head, his lips are stained with Ray's blood.

"I would," Ray draws out his words, "but we have a ship to catch." He rolls to the side and sits up quickly, amazed at his own daring and hoping it doesn't show on his face. He winces as he moves, his every muscle screaming from having been restrained while he was branded.

"I suppose I can wait. We'll have plenty of time on the journey to Tunisia." Azura drops his robes and steps out of the pooled cloth. His servants will attend to them. He walks, naked, to the wardrobe and selects an outfit, knowing Ray is watching. Azura is fully aware of his own magnificence. He lingers, indulging his pet a little before slipping into his travel clothing.

Ray is struggling into his Parisian clothing and Azura sniffs disdainfully before selecting one of his own robes and tossing it to him. "You'll be more comfortable in that until you heal. Trousers will only irritate the brand."

Ray accepts the clothing with a nod of thanks and hurries to dress. He borrows Azura's comb to tame his hair but gives it up for hopeless.  
He'll be covered in sea spray soon enough anyway.

He trails behind Azura obediently as they leave the bedroom. He hasn't been out of that room in days and he feels oddly disconnected from everything around him. Memories of solving the riddle, of watching Laila walk away, of losing Florian, they're distant and the emotions they evoke are all wrong. He knows he should feel more, or differently, but he can't remember how. Ray has only one purpose now, and all he can do is wait for his opportunity.  
XXXXX

"You've loaded the supplies as I've specified?" Azura is trying to do ten things at once, checking details and giving last minute orders.  
Through it all, Ray sits off to the side and watches. He's trying to remember the riddle and puzzling out its meaning. He understands the first part, of course, as does Azura. That's why they're headed to Tunsia. The unknown is what happens when they get there. Azura intends to puzzle the rest of the riddle out during the journey. Ray's just as determined that the secret is never revealed.

Azura's been vague about the original parchment, the one Ray translated to obtain the riddle. He tells Ray only that it leads to a great treasure. He always did underestimate Ray. It doesn't take much to determine that Azura is after the treasure, the spoils of the crusades taken from Jerusalem, perhaps even the Holy Grail.

Which makes it more urgent that Ray find a way to stop him now, before they get on that ship. Once they are at sea, there will be no hope of Ray completing his task and surviving. At least on land he has a chance, even if it is a slim one.

"Dreaming of treasure?" Azura teases, running his hand through Ray's messy hair. They are alone, all of the servants having been ordered away to complete preparations for the journey. "You always did want to be a pirate."

"No, I wanted to be the captain. You wanted to be the pirate."

"So I did. Perhaps I got my wish after all." Azura smiles, his eyes bright. It is his first glimpse of his dear boyhood friend and Ray's throat tightens. He swallows impatiently, forcing away the sentiment he can't allow himself to feel.

"You've got the eye patch," Ray counters, forcing lightness into his voice.

"That I do," Azura smiles wider and leans in close enough to nip Ray's ear. "Are you my cabin boy then?"

Ray doesn't get to answer. A deafening explosion shakes the mansion and he unconsciously reaches up to steady Azura. They've barely moved when another explosion sounds from the other side of the mansion.

"Come on," Azura snaps, grabbing Ray and dragging him out of the room as a third, closer explosion nearly knocks them off their feet. They both grasp a support column to remain upright, choking on the smoke that billows into the room. Screams sound in every direction and loose masonry and overturned furniture surround them.

Now! Ray tells himself. There's got to be something in the debris he can use and in the chaos no one will notice. He can kill Azura and be well away before they realize what's happened. If he's lucky, they'll blame it on the explosions.

The building trembles again and the screams are louder. Ray stumbles along behind Azura, tears streaming from his eyes. The smoke and dust sting, but that's not why he's crying.

::end part 11::


	12. Azura pt 8

A sound wakes him from uneasy slumber. At first Florian thinks it's thunder, but a glance towards the window indicates something else entirely. Removing the leash, he slips out of bed and crosses to the window quickly. He presses himself against the wall and peeks out, mindful of Solomon's warning. 

The sky is filled with smoke, rising up from… Azura's mansion! Florian races for his shoes, and slides them on. He grabs his cloak and heads for the door. He's out of the room and down the stairs before he remembers Solomon's other warning – about staying in the room.

Too late now, he decides as he runs along with the rest of the crowd. People jostle each other to get closer, but not too close, to the once-proud building. Debris litters the street and mothers keep tight hold of their children to keep them from moving closer.

Pushing through, Florian moves away from the throng, seeking discrete entry into the damaged building. It's foolish, he knows. But Ray is there and Florian will do whatever he can to rescue him, Azura be damned.

He slips down a narrow alley and clambers over debris, finding a window large enough for him to climb through. He tosses the cape aside and manages, rather ungracefully, to get inside.

He moves cautiously, blinking against the smoke and using part of his clothing to cover his mouth and nose. There's shouting and movement towards the inner courtyard and he moves carefully towards a hole that might have been a window to risk a look.

"Ray!" he screams it before he can stop himself, his heart pounding at the sight of his lover only a short distance away, trapped between Azura and three men in matching uniforms all with swords drawn. They seem to be at a standoff, but at the sound of Florian's cry, they turn their attention towards him.

Before he can react, he's snared by Azura's whip and pulled forward and down where he lands, dazed and breathless. He's being pulled closer to his dreaded enemy when one of the swordsmen lets out a cry and slices the whip in two.

Tension gone, the whip lashes back, catching Florian on the chest and leaving him gasping. He hears Ray's voice and the sudden retort of a pistol. There's a moment of eerie silence.

"Florian!" It's Solomon, not Ray, who helps him up and steadies him, moving between Florian and Azura. For a moment, Florian can't see what's happening but he can hear the clang of steel and another gunshot.

He pushes around Solomon, desperate to save Ray. He just misses the bullet that catches Solomon in the shoulder. There's another shot and a wounded cry behind him, but Florian's attention is on Solomon, lying on the ground, blood flowing freely from the wound. Without knowing what he's doing, Florian improvises a bandage from Solomon's shirt. He moves quickly, wondering when a bullet will find his back or what will be left of Ray when he turns around.

He feels warm metal pressed against his arm and glances down to see Solomon handing him his pistol. "Only if you have to," Solomon gasps before closing his eyes. Florian takes it and conceals it at his side before standing.

One of the swordsmen is down, the other two wounded but three more are approaching cautiously. Florian uses the distraction to move silently to the side where he has a better view of Ray. The man has a wound on his arm, probably from a sword and Azura is still using him as a shield.

Florian crouches down trying to hide behind some bushes and debris. He watches, waiting even as he desperately wants to run in screaming to save Ray. He turns his head, risking a glance at the swordsmen, wondering who they are. He's seen uniforms like that in books, tunics with large crosses on them. But they couldn't possibly be…

A bullet finishes another of the first three swordsmen and Florian takes that as his opening. He sights carefully along the pistol, determined not to miss. He's never actually fired a gun but it can't be that difficult.

Damn!

Azura moves at the last second and the bullet grazes his arm. He turns his attention to this new attack and his smile is pure malevolence.

"The pretty toy has teeth," he tells Ray conversationally before wrapping one hand around Ray's throat. "If he knows what's good for him, he'll put down the gun and crawl over here begging for forgiveness."

Ray flails helplessly for a moment, then slumps against Azura, his eyes closed.

"No!" Florian stands, ignoring the cries from the swordsmen. He lowers his right arm, ready to drop the pistol when a battle cry startles him. He catches a glimpse of the last of the original three swordsmen running straight at Azura, sword pointed straight ahead at chest height. Without being conscious of his actions, Florian raises the pistol and fires.

He's already running, when Azura staggers back, caught in the shoulder. Florian fires a third time and it catches Azura in the arm, causing him to drop his gun. Ray slams back against the wounded man and dives sideways even as the badly wounded swordsman strikes.

Clinging to each other, Ray and Florian stagger off to the side and watch as the rest of the swordsmen converge on Azura. He's wounded but not fatally and he glares at the two men, his gaze promising pain.

One of the swordsmen comes over to tend Ray's wounds while another helps a shaky Solomon. They all turn to watch as Azura is led away at sword point. His broken whip lies forgotten on the ground.

"What will happen to him?" Florian asks, his voice shaking along with his body. He can still feel the recoil from the pistol vibrating through him and he thinks he might be sick very soon.

"He will be punished," the swordsman tending Ray answers calmly. "He will not trouble you again."

Ray looks away, unable to let Florian see his reaction to that statement and all it implies. He looks back again when he feels a warm hand on his face.

"I'm glad you are alive," Florian says gently. He holds Ray's hand while wounds are tended, letting the contact calm him and trying to return the favor for Ray.

They both look at Solomon, then at the swordsman. "Who are you? Why are you here?" Florian asks.

"I think I know the answer," Ray offers. "These men are the Knights Templar and they are here for this." Ray slips a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "I took this from Azura during the fight. It's the translation of your riddle."

"What riddle?" Florian demands, frustrated that everyone seems to know what is going on but him.

"The reason Azura brought me back was to translate a document he had stolen. It is a riddle that supposedly reveals the location of a sacred treasure. A treasure that the Knights Templar have been sworn to protect."

"But how did they know that Azura had the document?"

"Do you remember that note I received at the restaurant?" Solomon asks Florian. "I'd suspected what Azura was up to and made some inquiries. That's where I went a few hours ago." He raises his eyebrows at Florian. "When I told you to stay in the room."

Florian frowns and blushes at the same time.

"I met with an old friend of Ray's, Isaac, and he introduced me to Henri, here," Solomon continues, pointing to the swordsman who had tended his wounds. "I was able to provide some information about the interior of this mansion that helped them plan their attack. They knew Azura was about to leave for Tunisia and feared he was after the treasure."

"About that translation." Henri looks at Ray, assessing him. His hand rests on the hilt of his sword. "What are your intentions?"

"I intend to do this," Ray tells him, handing over the paper containing the translation of the riddle. "That is the only copy."

Henri nods, removing his hand from the sword and tucking the note away carefully.

"Don't you want to pursue the treasure?" Florian asks.

"What would I do with all that gold and jewels?" Ray responds. "Sounds like more of a nuisance than anything. And it still wouldn't free you of your debt, Florian du Rochefort."

"Rochefort?" Henri echoes, surprised. "As in that aristocratic family with ties to the ancient kings?"

"Yes, why?" Florian responds, confused about what that has to do with anything and why a Knight Templar in Morocco would know about his family.

"Perhaps you owe them money too?" Ray teases, touching Florian's face. Florian blushes again and ducks his head, missing the look that Ray gives the knight.

"N..nothing," the knight stammers. "Just a name I heard once."

"Oh." Florian might have said more if Ray hadn't staggered and nearly fallen. "He needs rest. May I?" He looks to Solomon for permission to take Ray back to the hotel.

"Wait." Henri motions to one of the Knights who has returned and is tending to his fallen comrades. The man gladly agrees to help Florian and Ray.

When they were gone, Solomon turns to Henri, curious. "Why didn't you tell Florian he's the rightful heir to the treasure?"

"I'm not sure really," Henri replies honestly, looking off in the direction the men had taken. "But I think he'll be happier not knowing."

Solomon smiles and pats the knight's shoulder. "I believe you may be right."

::end part 12::


	13. Azura epilogue pt 1

"I'm glad you didn't kill him." 

Ray frowns and turns onto his side to look directly into Florian's eyes as he asks, "Are you?"

"You're not a killer, Ray. He was kind to you once. Just… try to focus on that." Florian reaches up to smooth Ray's messy hair away from his handsome face and smiles when a heavy jewel-laden necklace slides down his chest. It pools on the bed along with a bracelet and a garnet ring, sheltered in the tiny space between Ray's body and Florian's.

"You know," Florian adds with a smile, "bathing in jewels isn't quite as appealing as it sounds. He reaches back to grab whatever's been poking him in the neck and ends up with a fist-sized blue stone that glitters brilliantly even in the dimmed lighting of the cabin. He holds it up and looks through it, smiling at the beauty of the ordinary turned exotic.

"Find a new toy?" Ray teases, closing his hand around Florian's and the jewel and guiding them downward. He is already looking at his favorite jewels and even the rare blue diamond Florian is holding pales by comparison. "It's yours, then. But don't go flashing it around or you'll make the others jealous."

"They won't even notice. Your cousin Michel has taken quite an interest in Laila and she's not exactly discouraging him." In fact, she was already sharing Michel's luxurious stateroom aboard this elegant ship by the time Florian and Ray arrived. Solomon had stayed behind an extra day to make sure that Azura was properly confined in prison, but he'd insisted that Ray and Florian go ahead. They'd agreed, especially since they had cargo to transport.

"I'm glad she's found someone," Florian says, pushing a king's ransom aside so he can be closer to his lover. "Michel is very like you. It's easy to tell that you're cousins."

"I look better as a brunet than he does as a blond."

"Snob. I didn't mean hair color. He's got that same… intensity as you."

"Perhaps." Ray concedes after a moment's consideration. "But he's too showy for my taste, always flaunting his wealth. That's his mother's side of the family, I'm afraid."

"Well, Laila seems to like him well enough, and he is giving us passage home, even if you did have to bully him into it."

"Bully? Hardly. I'm just carrying on the fine Courland tradition. We're all like that."

"Thanks for the warning," Florian teases, picking up a handful of riches and scattering them across Ray's chest. "Do you think he'll ever get out?"

Although the topic changes, Ray follows it easily. Fear still shadows Florian's eyes and he sleeps restlessly, if at all, haunted by nightmares.  
Even now his right hand clenches and he unconsciously massages it, just as he has since the day he fired Solomon's gun with intent to kill.

Ray places his hand over Florian's and holds it out flat, pressing it over his heart. This always calms Florian, and after a moment, the blond's head settles onto Ray's chest. He uses his other hand to stroke Florian's back slowly, hoping to calm him into sleep for a few hours. They've given everyone strict orders not to disturb them in their cabin and after that one incident with Michel and a lot of broken glassware, everyone has cooperated.

It took nearly twenty minutes, but finally Florian's breathing evens out and Ray is able to close his own eyes. He has nightmares of his own to battle, but he can't let Florian know. The blond has suffered enough.

There are voices in the corridor, outside the cabin. Michel and Laila, seeming to be arguing about something. Laila again, a bit louder, but still too muffled to distinguish her words. Finally there is a faint thump and the voices recede. Florian shifts and mumbles something in his sleep before settling again. Ray smiles and lets himself drift until sleep finally carries him away.

XXXXX

"You're sure about this?" Ray studies Florian who keeps his head down and his attention on the ledger where he is recording Ray's "cargo". They'd spent harrowing minutes dodging debris, looters and curiosity seekers to reach Azura's inner sanctum, the opulent hidden chamber where he kept his most prized treasures. They'd bypassed larger, heavier items, and filled two mid-sized satchels with gold and jewels enough to rival royal treasuries.

Assured that Solomon was distracting local law enforcement, and that Azura was safely in captivity, Ray had used a small explosive to seal the entrance to the chamber before he and Florian escaped in the confusion.

With Florian's pale skin and hair concealed by his cloak, they'd wandered the maze of back alleyways drawing little attention in the chaos until they finally emerged, sweat-streaked and breathless in a main market area where Ray hired a cart to take them to his cousin's ship.

He'd sent Laila away with his signet ring for both their security and he'd been assured by Solomon that she had indeed convinced his cousin to wait for him and provide passage for himself, Florian and Solomon.

Still, it had been a relief to see her waiting on the dock even if there was the slightest twinge of... annoyance at seeing her standing so close to his pompous cousin Michel.

Ray's patience had been pushed to the limit by Michel's chatter and his insistence on fawning over Florian. It took Laila's calm but firm request to finally convince Michel to show Ray and Florian to their cabin. Once there, she'd given both of them a happy hug before dragging Michel away. She'd had the good sense to wait several hours before returning with ointments and a light but filling meal for them both.

Since then, she'd been invaluable at distracting Michel. Ray smiles, bringing his thoughts back to the present. He picks up a jeweled hair clip that Florian has just logged and studies it. "Do you think Laila would like this?"

"More importantly, I think Michel would like her to wear it." Florian makes a note in the ledger beside the hair clip, similar to the entry for his blue gem, showing it given as a gift. Ray makes a face and leans down to nip at Florian's neck.

"So, are you going to answer my first question: are you sure about this?" He shifts a pile of gold coins aside, much to Florian's annoyance, and perches on the edge of the desk. "It's your decision."

Florian can't meet Ray's eyes. He tries, but he just can't. Instead, he focuses on Ray's left ear. "I don't love him, and I'm not a whore, despite everything that's happened. But I..."

"You don't owe him your body." Ray tries his best to keep his voice calm. He already promised Florian that there will be no repercussions if Florian chooses to sleep with Solomon this one time. But keeping that promise doesn't mean he has to like it.

"We owe him our lives. He risked everything to save us. And I..." Florian looks down at his hands, gripping the edge of the desk with white-knuckled intensity. "I have nothing else to offer." He shakes his head sadly. "And it's not like I'm a virgin."

"If you do this out of obligation, it will be no different than being forced. Solomon doesn't want that, and he won't accept your offer. He wouldn't consider it anyway, but he doesn't want your only memory of him to be what happened in Azura's mansion." Ray gently touches Florian's face. "I will be with you. We'll show you that there doesn't have to be pain and fear."

"You've already shown me that, Ray. I would like, just once, to know what it's like for someone else to touch me without hurting me." Florian offers a brave smile, but there is a hint of desperation in his eyes. He needs this, or he'll never put aside his fear.

"Just once," Ray agrees, a traitorous part of him wondering if he doesn't need the same reassurance.

::end part 13::


	14. Azura epilogue, pt 2

He arrives empty-handed, wearing a nervous smile. The conversation is awkward, too many words about nothing which none of them will remember. It's Florian that finally rescues them when he rises from his chair and offers Solomon his hand.

"Let's not waste words when there are more interesting ways to pass the time." Florian takes Solomon's hand and presses it flat against his chest, letting the older man feel his heartbeat and the heat of his body through the thin clothing. He's wearing a simple Moroccan robe, as is Ray. Solomon is in his usual Parisian garb and looks overdressed and uncomfortable compared to his companions.

"I…" Solomon chokes, then clears his throat before trying again. "I'm asking only for what you chose to give. You understand that?" He holds Florian's eyes with his own, demanding honesty. Florian's gaze doesn't waver and after a moment he sees and feels Solomon relax. They both look at Ray who's remained silent since Solomon arrived.

"Ray." Florian holds his hand out to his lover, beckoning for him to join them.

"No promises, no obligations. Agreed?" Ray is looking at Solomon but he's speaking to both of them. They nod even as Florian reaches out and takes Ray's hand, bringing it to his chest where Solomon's hand still rests. He places Ray's hand over Solomon's and smiles.

"I place myself in your hands. Please be gentle with me." Florian blushes as he says this, but his gaze remains steady and his smile doesn't falter.

"You honor me," Solomon replies, looking only at Florian as he stands. He lifts his unoccupied hand and caresses Florian's face before leaning in and kissing him sweetly. Florian returns it as Ray withdraws, moving back a few steps to let the men decide how they want the evening to progress.

Florian returns Solomon's kiss with a demanding one of his own. Having released Solomon's hand at last he wraps both arms around the older man and pulls him close. They are pressed, body to body, their hands and mouths exploring.

Ray watches, pushing down the urge to grab Solomon and shove him out of the room before claiming Florian for his own. It burns deep in his chest to see Florian willingly kissing and touching someone else. It never hurt this much when Azura was tormenting Florian. Why is this so different?

Florian makes that funny little sound in the back of his throat, the one Ray loves to draw out of him. That almost ends everything, but Ray clenches his fists hard and turns away.

"Ray." Florian's hands caress his shoulders, urging him to turn and face what Ray does not want to see - Florian's glistening, reddened lips. Ray reminds himself once more that he's doing this for his lover. It gives him the strength he needs to turn.

"Help me?" Florian asks prettily, holding his arms out to the side, waiting for Ray to undress him. Solomon waits patiently, a few steps back, watching with a smile.

The robe slides off easily and, like Ray, Florian wears nothing beneath it. His body still bears the fading evidence of Azura's abuse and there is a red, raw circle around his wrist where the slave bracelet had been. Ray had borrowed one of the men from the ship's engine room and some tools to get the bracelet removed, but he'd kept it, much to Florian's annoyance.

With a lingering touch, Florian turns back to Solomon and starts to undress him. Ray watches a long minute, indecisive, before finally shedding his own robe.

They press together, the three of them, whether out of need or some lingering awkwardness, none of them can say. But the heat and need and desire they share drowns out all other concerns. There is no right or wrong here, not when they've come so close to Hell and managed to escape, if not unscathed, then at least grateful to be alive.

If that gratitude translates into flesh sliding against and finally pressing into flesh then who has the right to judge? Who but these three could know the deeper meaning of soft cries and louder moans, of pleading eyes and salty tears?

It is a celebration, messy and joyous, and they prolong it well past dawn, though their cabin is closed off from the sun.

It is with a tender kiss and a hint of regret that Solomon slides away from his sleeping lovers and searches for his clothes. He dresses in silence, resolved to take only good memories when he leaves this room. Still, he permits himself one last lingering look at the pair tangled in the bedding and each other. He is both thankful and not that Ray's eyes are open, watching him, while Florian's remain closed in sleep.

"You don't have to leave," Ray tells him, but there's conflicting sentiment in those eyes and Solomon sees it. He knows his black cat so well.

"It's better if I'm not here when Florian wakes. He owes me nothing."

"We owe you our thanks for what you've done for both of us. Neither of us will forget that."

"Then let me go out of kindness, before I lose my resolve. Despite last night, there's no room in your bed for a third person, Ray."

Ray and Solomon study each other, reading and understanding the many things unsaid. Finally Ray nods and Solomon smiles.

"Don't think this means I'm done with you. Someday I'll prove that you're the masked thief, Noir."

"I knew it wouldn't be that easy to get rid of you." Ray waves Solomon away, watching as he walks across the room to the door. It is only as he turns the doorknob that Ray calls to him.

"Dinner at seven in the dining room. Florian will save you a seat. There's a banker named Foxworth traveling alone and Florian thinks you'd make a good match."

Solomon groans and shakes his head. He glances back at the blond and sighs. This will not be good. He waves his hand in surrender, ignoring Ray's smirk. "I'll be there," he concedes as he walks out, closing the door behind him.

:::End of final chapter. Thank you for reading:::

Please note that the Fate universe will be continued in a new story after a short break.


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